Polyjuice Potion
by Akantha
Summary: Harry, Ron, and Hermione aren't the only ones who know how to make a polyjuice potion, though Draco certainly has a different use for it...
1. A Gryffindor in Slytherin Colors

a/n: originally, this was rated R, but for many complicated reasons, I've edited it for content, so it is now pg 13. someday, I might post up the real story, full content. the only thing that is mine is the plot; the characters, polyjuice potion formula, etc, belong to j.k. rowling, unfortunately…

Draco stared uncertainly at the thick potion bubbling in his pewter cauldron. He was supposed to drink _that_? A large bubble forming on the surface popped in reply.

Sighing, he dipped his goblet into the cauldron. It emerged dripping with the dark brown concoction. Draco reached into his pocket and carefully withdrew a neatly folded linen handkerchief. He gently placed it on a nearby desk and gingerly unfolded it.

Nestled in the creases were a few short strands of black hair. He dangled one of them over his goblet for a moment before dropping it in. The hair shimmered against the murky potion before sinking. Thebrew frothed and immediately turned deep green.

Again Draco stared, still very dubious. He seriously doubted the wisdom in imbibing the potion now. It looked toxic.

Finally, in one decisive move, Draco drained his goblet, praying to every god he had heard of. He hoped he had done everything right.

It had been easy enough getting the ingredients, most of them were in the student store cupboard. As for the remaining materials, all he had to do was arrange a meeting with his favorite teacher and have Goyle "accidentally" set fire to the classroom outside Snape's office. He had had plenty of time to gather the bicorn powder and boomslang skin.

He was worried about the procedure. Did he add enough fluxweed? Was the lacewing boiled long enough? These questions, and a thousand more, swirled around his mind as he gulped the potion.

Letting his goblet shatter on the floor, he struggled to keep from vomiting. Seconds later, however, he was distracted by the burning sensation coursing through his body, as it reshaped itself. He was bent over on the floor when it finally stopped.

The Slytherin shakily stood up, gripping the desk as his legs wobbled. His vision was blurred and he waited a minute for it to straighten out before realization hit him, leaving him feeling very stupid.

Reaching in a different pocket, he pulled out a pair of round, black-rimmed glasses. They were an exact duplicate of the original pair, and he had gone to great lengths to obtain them.

With the glasses on, the fog in his eyes cleared. He turned to examine himself in the full-length mirror behind him. Harry gazed back at him. It had worked! Harry's face cracked into a grin.

Draco looked at his hands. They hadn't changed much. The fingers were still long and slender. He still had bony wrists. The main difference was that Draco was slightly paler. Only slightly.

Twisting in front of the mirror, Draco could see that the rest of Harry wasn't much different. He didn't have to change his robes, for Harry seemed to fit the smallest size also. Draco started to loosen his tie; it was the only item that displayed the Slytherin colors.

But something made him pause. Green seemed to suit Harry. Draco never noticed before (or if he did he had forgotten about it). The emerald color in Harry's eyes perfectly matched the tie. Draco stepped back to get a better overall look at himself.

Yes. Harry does look better in Slytherin's colors than in Gryffindor's, thought Draco. Ironic, since the boy is one of Slytherin house's greatest enemies.

But it didn't matter. Draco took off the tie and stuffed it in his pocket, where the glasses had been. Picking up the handkerchief, he shook the remaining strands into the still bubbling cauldron. Conjuring up a large flask, he then filled it with the gloppy green liquid.

"Evanesco." The remaining brew in the kettle vanished. He repaired the goblet on the floor with a different spell. He looked around to see if he missed anything else. Seeing that he didn't, he headed out the door to the dark corridor.

He was going to have some fun in this body. A few naked photos. Maybe a meeting with Weasle, but with a few… twists. Draco grinned wickedly.

As he casually paced towards the Great Hall, he thought about the leather dog collar at the bottom of his trunk. Draco wondered, how it would look on Harry?

Well he wouldn't have to wait long to find out.

a/n: well, that is it. for now anyways. if I get good reviews, I'll write a part II. (but good constructive criticism in small doses is good too )


	2. Rumours and Revelations

a/n: Well here it is, chaptre deux, part two of polyjuice potion, the second installation... and I can go on and on, but then there won't be room for the chapter (I wonder if I really know that many ways to say "chapter two")...so I won't. Btw, Harry's not very bright here, non?

disclaimer: Nothing has changed since the first chapter. I still only own the plot (fat lot of good that's gonna do me).

It was very late in the morning when Harry woke. At least he thought it was morning. It could very well be the afternoon. And it was Sunday, wasn't it? God, he hoped it wasn't Monday. Snape's class was already a nightmare, imagine if Snape thought he had ditched. The thought made him want to curl back in bed, securely buried in his sheets.

Actually, Harry didn't remember putting himself to bed. Yet here he was, so he must have. But why couldn't he remember? His mind felt groggy, and the back of his head was throbbing, as though someone had hit him there.

Slowly he got out of bed and began to dress. His movements were stiffer, however, due to how his shoulders were all knotted up. He felt as though he had been cramped in a tight spot for too long. _Strange_... he thought as he left the dormitory.

The Great Hall was buzzing with whispered rumours. _Really?... He did what?... Who - ?... Wha - ... Potter... You sure?... Yeah, he..._

Harry stiffened at the sound of his name. What had he done now? He quickened his pace and hurried towards Hermione, seated at the far end of the table. She was calmly nibbling on a piece of toast, which meant that she was extremely nervous.

"Hello, Harry," her voice was several octaves higher than usual. "What do you think of the weather today?" She was worried about the weather?! His mouth opened in disbelief. "I was thinking it was perfect for a walk," she added pointedly. Harry nodded and grabbed a few slices of toast to eat outside.

As they headed out, Harry could feel hundreds of eyes staring after them. Safe outside from curious observers, he munched on his toast while Hermione quickly informed him of what she heard.

"What?!" he exclaimed when she finished. "I kissed who?!"

"Ginny. And Parvati, Lavender," here Hermione paused, "and... Ron." Harry choked on his breakfast. They stopped walking while he attempted to dislodge the offending bit of toast.

"_Ron_???" he croaked, after finally swallowing. "What the fu- "

"Never mind, Harry, those are just rumours," Hermione interrupted. "As soon as the school finds out what you were really doing, it should all die down. So don't worry about it," she added.

Silence.

"Harry?" she stared at him. He didn't look at her.

"So that's why Ron wasn't at breakfast this morning. I wondered."

"Harry," she repeated, louder this time. If he had turned, he would've seen the growing horror on her face. "Are you alright? You're not really going to let this get to you, right?"

He stopped at the base of a tree near the lake and slumped down. "Mione," he murmured. "Mione, I can't remember where I was last night." He finally gazed up at her sadly.

"What?" she asked, dumbstruck. For once she was at a loss for words.

"Not the whole night, I mean, I remember going to the library," he rushed, "and I was sitting at a table in the back, researching vampires for our defense against the dark arts essay. I was thinking how the whole assignment was a load of rubbish; what can vampires possibly have in common with, what were they called again? oh yeah, lethifolds (a/n: see _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_), and what are the chances of encountering the two together, really - "

"Harry, you're getting off track. And besides, _I_ had no trouble with that essay. Other than the fact that both of them are night creatures, I found several other connections such as their tendency to prey - "

"Who's getting off track now?" Harry said with a small smile. Hermione felt her cheeks redden. "Alright, you were in the library," she recounted. "What happened afterwards?"

"That's just it. I can't remember. Next thing I knew, I was in my bed in Gryffindor tower."

Hermione looked troubled. "Are you sure you can't remember anything when you woke?" Harry nodded. "How about your physical condition?"

"What'dya mean?"

"Like any soreness, aching... hickeys..."

"Hermione!"

"What?! I'm trying to help!"

"Well..." Harry told her about his morning.

"Something is definitely wrong," Hermione said, her eyebrows knitted together. This all seemed... familiar somehow...

Suddenly, her expression cleared. Two words had just jumped into her mind. "Of course... That would explain everything..."

"Hermione?"

"Harry, someone's been going around with your face."

Again, there was silence. _Hermione's finally cracked_, Harry thought.

She must have read his thoughts because she added, "No, Harry, I'm not insane. Think back to our second year, in the girls' bathroom."

He remembered. The polyjuice potion. But how did she - ?

"You said that in the morning you felt like you spent the night in a closet," she explained, "which didn't make sense if you were gallivanting around snogging everyone you see. Also, to keep Crabbe and Goyle from interfering we - "

Realization dawned on Harry too. " – locked them in a broom closet," he finished.

"Exactly," Hermione beamed at him. "And you don't seem like someone very frivolous with love," she grinned. Harry was more worried, however.

"But who is using the potion this time?" He wondered. "Is it Malfoy?" he asked sharply.

"I'm not sure, anything is possible at this point... Look," she touched his arm, "we should head back. I'll keep an ear on the gossip. Maybe there's something to help us."

"Doubt it," he sighed, getting to his feet. He held out his hand to Hermione. "But I'll also listen around." His insides curled at the thought of what he would hear.

"Thanks," she said, accepting his hand. "We'll meet in the library during lunch. It'll probably be deserted." He agreed.

They headed back to the castle in silence, Hermione thoughtful, Harry anxious. But neither of them was aware, or prepared, for what await them.


	3. Cruelty before Consolation

a/n: Finally, a third update. Ok... Now, I've had questions regarding the pairing in this little fic. I'm not really sure myself, I'm just letting myself get caught up in the story, writing down whatever comes to mind, whenever. Now, I'm sorry it's been a while since I've updated, but the scenes just weren't clicking, and the conversations were choppy at best. Even now they are still a bit awkward, sadly.

As the day progressed, it became clear to Harry that Hermione had only told him a fraction of what was going around school. But he knew this: whatever more he supposedly had done, it definitely was worse than a few kisses.

A group of fourth-year Hufflepuff girls had glared at him as he passed them on the stairs. His appearance in the corridor near the Charms classroom had caused a large troupe of Ravenclaws to break out with fresh whispers. Every Slytherin he ran into took that chance to jeer at him directly.

"Geez, Potty, I had no idea you were that desperate. Are you lonely at night?"

"No wonder, you have such awful taste! But if you favor Weasels..."

_They're not worth it_, he thought to himself, _stay calm_. And if he reacted, a whole new wave of rumours would surface: _That Potter is so temperamental... Better watch out, he's very volatile... Isn't he dangerous?_

He'd be labeled as a womanizing psycho.

But even worse was that his fellow Gryffindors have decided to shun him. While they didn't participate in the gossip, they did their best to ignore him. A pod of first years would scuttle past Harry, eyes averted as though he was a gorgon, and would petrify them as soon as they viewed him. If any of his housemates saw him in a hallway, they would hurry away in the opposite direction. When Harry was being harassed by a bunch of Slytherin seventh-years, Seamus Finnigan had just walked on by as though nothing was happening.

The last bit was probably what pushed Harry over. He and Seamus had never really been close, but they shared a dorm! He should have known Harry a bit better than that.

Harry whipped out his wand and, without thinking, aimed a jinx in Seamus' direction just as the hem of his robe disappeared around the corner. A second later, he could hear footsteps running away. He thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave. He then turned to the Slytherins, but only saw their rapidly retreating backs; the cowards had also run.

Properly enraged now, he turned and stalked down the empty corridor. He wasn't going to wait until lunch; he was going to the library now. It was the only place he could think of where he wouldn't have to worry about hearing more gossip. He would find something to read, or finish his essay... and maybe he'll come across Ron along the way. Where was that little nudnik hiding anyways?

He heard a pair of footsteps behind him, and Harry fumed. Why couldn't they leave him alone? Who was it this time, another smarmy Slytherin? Well, he'd show them.

He waited until they were right behind him.

"Harry - "

He whirled around, pointed his wand at their face, and had a curse halfway out his mouth before he realized who it was.

Cho Chang had been in one of the halls when she saw Harry dart by, and had rushed after him, hoping to speak with him alone. She had been relieved to spot him at the end of the deserted corridor, but was now staring nervously at the wand two inches from the tip of her nose.

Harry quickly lowered his wand. "Oh, it's you, Cho," he said in surprise. "Sorry about that, I thought you were..." he gestured vaguely with his hand, unable to find the right word, "... not you," he finished lamely. Though he was no longer infatuated with her, her presence still made him lightheaded. He pocketed the wand, feeling his cheeks turning crimson. _I almost attacked Cho_... He tried to laugh his embarrassment away. "So how have you been?" he inquired in what he hoped was a calm voice.

"Well, I'm having a horrible time studying for my N.E.W.T. exams," she replied with an equally forced ease. "But aside from that I'm fine," she gave him a wry smile. "I don't suppose there's much point in asking you if you're the same," she added more seriously.

"The rumours sure aren't helping," he answered glumly. Cho looked like she was about to say something, but seemed to decide against it.

"You don't believe them, do you?"

"I'm not believing anything until I hear from you," she said. "I won't make a decision based on just one version of a story."

Harry breathed deeply. While part of him, his more grounded, logical side, knew Cho was only being reasonable, another part of him argued that reason should have led her to conclude in his obvious innocence. But in the end he could see no harm in telling her.

"Alright," he said tiredly. "I'll tell you if you'll listen."

She sat on the bottom step of a nearby stairway. "I'm listening."

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but froze as he heard heavy footsteps followed by a soft mewing. Filch. With Mrs. Norris. Almost reflexively, he grabbed the dark haired girl's wrist and pulled her into a nearby classroom. She gave him a strange look as he shut the door as quietly as possible.

"You know we're allowed to be here," she informed him, matter-of-factly. She was right, he did know, but Harry had wandered throughout the school so many times at night that it became second nature for him to hide from Filch.

"I'd rather avoid Filch," he stated, nonchalant. She wasn't entirely convinced that was all there was to it.

Harry surveyed the classroom. It was apparently abandoned, and now served as a large storage space. He could see random items placed about, such as a long mirror and some old desks stacked on top of one another. He walked to a lone desk in front of the stacks and moved the large cauldron to the floor. Hoisting himself on the desk where the cauldron was, he then magicked another desk next to his for Cho, seeing that there were no chairs. She hesitated before climbing on.

Harry then spent approximately the next twenty minutes reiterating the events that day for the second time that morning, with Cho interrupting occasionally with a question or two.

"You expect me to believe this?" she asked incredulously when he finished. He sighed.

"I know it sounds crazy, but it's the best theory we've got." Now that he had confided in her, he desperately wanted her to believe.

"We?"

"Hermione and me."

"I see," she said stiffly. Harry noticed she was like this when he had mentioned their conversation by the lake earlier, or anytime Hermione came up.

"She is one of my best friends," he told her wearily. "There's nothing between us."

"I didn't say anything."

He didn't reply, and she was silent for a while.

"Do you believe me?"

"About what?" she looked at him. "You and Hermione, or the bit about the polyjuice potion?

"The potion."

"Well," she bit her lip, "it does explain a lot..." Harry was reminded of what Hermione has said earlier. _They are more alike than they think_, he thought, smiling inwardly.

"... and I see no reason to doubt you, except that it just seems so... unreal."

Harry didn't want to get his hopes up.

"But your explanation makes so much more sense than all the other rubbish I've heard today," she laughed.

"So you..." his voice was tentative.

"Yes Harry," she smiled, "I believe you."

The metallic chiming of a bell sounded throughout the school, signaling lunch.

a/n: I know it's not brilliant, but I will get better as I write more (I hope). To tell you the truth, this chapter has no relevance to the plot at all. I just wanted to show the way Harry was being treated, and I liked the idea of Cho trying to find the facts among the lies (though I still think Cho is a twit in the books). Personally, I am disturbed that Harry's conversation with Cho is longer than his talk with Hermione in the morning. But there were some things I wanted to include and cutting the scene would make it look sloppy. I feel like explaining myself.

Once again, review. I'd like to know your opinions and any suggestions you might have.


	4. Discovery in the Library

a/n: I really should hurry the plot along... but first a few clarifying notes: while I'm still debating with myself on the pairing, I know for certain there will be no Harry/Hermione (see my author page for reason) or Harry/Cho (his last conversation with her was on a strictly "just friends" basis). And I also don't intend to make this a slash, so there aren't many options left. We'll see... maybe I'll think differently later.

Remember, this chapter is written in Harry's point of view.

I would also like to thank Satori for so kindly beta-ing this chapter. THANK YOU!

Harry heard his footsteps pounding against the cold stone floors as he ran to the library. Hermione hated tardiness, but he had lost track of the time.

He could make out voices from the Great Hall below as the student population settled down for their midday meal. The rest of the school was mercifully empty, and the steady drumming of his feet emphasized his solitude.

He was panting by the time he reached the entrance; his chest was heaving and he was slightly bent over from a stitch in his side. Several stitches, actually. He wanted to stay still for a while, to calm himself a bit. But Hermione was waiting. Wincing, he straightened his back, opened the door and slowly walked in, his quick breaths betraying his sprint here.

The library seemed devoid of all life, with the exception of Madame Pince, skinny as ever, who glared at Harry as one would if an unwanted rodent had wandered into one's home. He was probably breathing too loudly.

As casually as he could, Harry strolled towards the back of the large room, all the while feeling the librarian's hawk-like eyes on his back. He turned into a section of spellbooks and disappeared from her view. There were no windows here. Instead the area was lit was torches placed at regular intervals. A few shelves back was the table Hermione frequented.

But Hermione wasn't there, neither were the columns of books and piles of parchment that often followed her. The table was barren, without so much as a note explaining her absence. Harry stood there, puzzled. She was never late. Never. Unless something terrible had happened, for Hermione prided herself on promptness as well as intelligence.

Harry didn't want to jump to conclusions. She could just be browsing while she waited, he told himself.

Lugging along all of her books? No, she would have left her book bag. Harry felt his heartbeat quicken once again.

Could she have been attacked because of him? He remembered the hostility he experienced due to the rumours. It was common knowledge that he and Hermione were friends, what if someone hurt her to get back at him? At that thought immense guilt filled him, along with fierce anger at both his tormenters and at himself for not being able to protect her, be there for her.

In his distracted state, Harry didn't notice a figure lurking in the shadows behind him.

"She's not going to suddenly apparate in front of you, you know." Harry jumped at the voice. He spun around and stared between the tall, wooden bookshelves.

A scrawny boy of sixteen was leaning against a shelf, calmly perusing a large leather-bound tome. His face was just about a meter away from the circle of light emitting from the torch above Hermione's table.

"Who are you?" Harry asked cautiously. The boy didn't answer; he merely closed his book with a muffled _thump_ and placed it back among the dusty covers in the row behind him. He took a step towards Harry.

"Who are you?" Harry repeated, automatically moving back. The other boy responded by stepping again. Harry felt the edge of the table against the small of his back. The mysterious young man moved another step, his black hair flashing in the light. Harry's breath hissed in an attempt to conceal a gasp.

The boy smirked, clearly amused, bright green eyes slightly enlarged by thick glasses. Harry's green eyes. If the two had been standing in the same position, it would have been as though each were gazing at their reflection.

"Hello Potter."

"You..." Harry managed. He swallowed and started over. "What did you do to Hermione?"

His twin's smile widened.

"What did you do!" Harry yelled. From a distant part of the library, an audible shush could be heard from Madame Pince.

"Watch your temper," the other said easily.

Harry struggled to even out his voice.

"Who are you?" he reverted back to his first question.

"Ah, that is why I'm here. I've decided to reveal my identity to you," his likeness drawled, "before Granger does. You see, she was here earlier, and caught me still in this form. From the conversation that ensued, she somehow figured out my identity." He checked his watch. "I'll transform back in five minutes."

"Where is she now?" Harry growled.

"To be honest, I don't know. She left before you arrived," was the reply. "Truly," he added, still smirking, as Harry fingered his wand.

Harry hated that smirk, and the way it twisted up _his_ features. He hated how cold he looked. And how different from the face he saw everyday in the mirror before leaving the dorm for breakfast. It was a very familiar, annoying smile.

"Four minutes."

"I don't need you to transform to know who you are, " Harry spat out.

"Really?" the other raised an eyebrow, an expression Harry could never do.

"Oh, let me guess," Harry said sarcastically, "Malfoy?" The look-a-like was taken back.

"Out of curiosity," he recovered, "did you really figure it out or," he paused, "do you just always jump to that name?"

"Both," said Harry

"I see." He took off the spectacles as his hair started lightening. Within moments, it was clear that Harry had been correct.

"You..." again Harry was at a lost for words, this time because of pure rage. "You..."

"Yes. I imagine this day has been hell for you, hasn't it?" Draco commented serenely.

Harry lifted his wand and screamed a curse at him. But Draco had no trouble dodging it, leaving him more incensed.

"And it will continue to be hell, only worse," he continued, moving as a group of books flew out from the shelf beside him. "Do you know why? _Expelliarmus_!" Harry's wand flew out into Draco's outstretched palm. "Because now you know about me," he walked towards Harry, who stiffened. "You know I'm the cause of it all." He was less than half a meter away. Harry wanted to lunge at him and punch his lights out, but he had the wands. "It will tear you up, because you can't prove it," Draco was directly before Harry now. He leaned in until his lips were centimeters from Harry's ear. "There's nothing you can do about it," he whispered. Harry could have killed him if Draco wasn't holding his wand.

Draco turned away just as Madame Pince rounded the corner. Her eyes took in the scene in horror. Her books!

"We had a bit of an accident," Draco spoke smoothly. With a fluid wave he repaired the shelves and replaced the books. "Won't happen again." With that, he handed Harry back his wand and strolled away.

a/n: For those of you who didn't already know, one by one, my muses have left. All that remains is a serious case of writer's block, among other things. SO IT'S UP TO YOU READERS TO INSPIRE AND MOTIVATE ME BY REVIEWING! Or this story will end now and –

Harry: WHAT? This story can't end yet! We can't let that prat Malfoy get away with this!

Hermione: And what about me? Malfoy did something TERRIBLE to me and you aren't even going to justify that!

Ron: What could he do to you in the library?

Hermione: Oh shut up Ron –

Harry: Ron! Where have you been?

Ron: Uh… er…

_(door opens and slams close)_

Draco: Let's get this over with – hey! What is this? This isn't a special Slytherin prefect meeting! And what's SHE doing here! _(points to Akantha)_ Oh I get it! You will rot in Azkaban for kidnapping me!

Akantha: I have no intention of that sort. Not everything is about you, you know. I have merely invited –

Draco: TRICKED you mean!

Akantha: _(continues, ignoring him)_ - invited you to come here to discuss the progress of the story.

Harry: And when she told us about the unfortunate disappearances of her muses, we decided to ask the readers for more reviews so she can continue the plot.

Draco: Oh, that's all? _(everyone nods)_ Well, in that case, DON'T REVIEW, DAMMIT! I LIKE IT JUST LIKE THIS! CONTINUING IT WILL BE WRONG! WHO KNOWS WHAT TWISTED EVENTS SHE HAS ON HER MIND – mmehmuh… _(the Trio have bound and gagged him)_

Harry: Heh, don't listen to him. He's not feeling well, because he wants you to review as much as we do.

Ron: So don't let us down!

a/n: No Malfoys were really hurt during the making of this scene.


End file.
